The continent of Westeros, the Kingdom of the North, Winterfell.
Because the former Hand of the King had died unexpectedly, the Lord of the North, Duke Eddard Stark, had been invited by King Robert to travel to the capital and take up the position of the new Hand of the King. As a result, all matters great and small in Winterfell were now being handled by Eddard's eldest son, Robb Stark.
Inside one of Winterfell's council chambers, Robb was in no pleasant mood. He held a sealed letter in his hand, his expression heavy as he looked toward Maester Luwin, adviser to the North.
"King Robert is dead, yet my sister Sansa writes in this letter that my father, Eddard Stark, has committed treason—and she wants me to personally go to King's Landing to plead guilty before the new king?" Robb said coldly. "The letter doesn't mention Arya at all. Does she think her own sister doesn't exist?"
Maester Luwin hailed from the Citadel, the most renowned academic authority on the continent. After graduating from the Citadel, he had served House Stark ever since and was intimately familiar with all the tedious formalities of the nobility. Patiently, he explained to the young lord before him.
"It is written in your sister's own hand, but it is obvious that it was done under the queen's instruction. This is the king's command, and you must obey it. They are summoning you to King's Landing to swear fealty to the new king—otherwise, it will be regarded as treason."
Robb gave a soft laugh and sat back in his chair. "This Queen Cersei is quite interesting. She imprisons my father, then asks me to go and plead guilty. The Mad King used such a clumsy trick to kill my grandfather—does she think she can use the same move against House Stark again?"
Seated nearby, Theon Greyjoy wore an inexplicable smile. He was the duke's foster son and had grown up alongside Robb since childhood.
"Then let it be as Her Majesty wishes," Robb said calmly. "Summon all our bannermen. They once swore fealty to my father—now is the time to test that loyalty and friendship."
Maester Luwin was startled when he heard the order. He had not expected that the fifteen-year-old youth he had watched grow up would possess such resolve—bold enough to openly declare war on the Lannister family, where Queen Cersei came from.
"Very well. I believe your father would be proud of you."
With an appreciative nod, he left the council chamber to send messages to the northern nobles loyal to House Stark.
Before long, at the highest point of Winterfell's castle, dozens of ravens were released at the same time. Carrying the signal of war, they scattered in all directions. The increasingly distant cries of the birds were like the horns of an advancing army on the battlefield, pounding mercilessly against the hearts of every person in Winterfell.
Theon looked at the young wolf lord who had grown up alongside him, yet stood so high above him in status. "Are you afraid?"
"Afraid?" Robb lifted a cup of deep-red wine and drained it in one gulp. "I've long since forgotten what fear feels like, my dear Theon."
…
The Robb of this moment was no longer the young wolf lord who was brave and resourceful yet utterly inept at politics. His soul had been taken over by Lin Ke from Blue Star.
However, this was not Lin Ke's first time traveling through time and space. Ever since he had inexplicably been playing a game and suddenly crossed over into the world of Elden Ring, he had thought that clearing the game would let him return home. Instead, after becoming the Elden Lord, he somehow crossed over again—this time into the world of Game of Thrones.
"Although all my equipment is gone, every spell and incantation I learned is etched deep into my soul. As long as I want to use them, I can cast them. Thankfully, I didn't play some low-IQ, Int-9 brainless build—sure enough, the noble mage is always the only correct answer for the meta."
"The world of Game of Thrones is full of danger. Many gods have left records of miracles—like the eerie Night King, the Lord of Light who can resurrect the dead, the Three-Eyed Raven who can traverse time, and the widely worshipped Seven. I just wonder… if I kill these things, will they drop loot or equipment or something?"
"On the other side of the Narrow Sea, Daenerys should have already hatched three little dragons by now. I wonder how a dragon's heart tastes in this world."
Freshly transmigrated and not yet fully adjusted, Robb habitually thought about all sorts of bizarre questions.
But he quickly adapted to this brand-new world. Right now, the most important thing was handling the coming war. As far as single combat went, Robb was confident he could defeat any person or monster—he could even wrestle with the Night King or the Lord of Light if they showed up in person.
But when it came to warfare, a deep resistance rose from his very body—he really didn't want to end up in a one-versus-many situation.
So it would still have to be his subordinates charging into battle.
Walking up to the map, Robb began to think about how the coming campaign should unfold. This was a battle between House Stark and House Lannister—a clash between wolf and lion.
In the original story, Robb seemed unstoppable at the beginning, advancing triumphantly, but many internal and external threats were concealed by victory, leaving everyone blind to the perilous situation of the North.
As the war dragged on, rebellion would erupt within the North. Pirate houses from overseas would also take advantage of Robb's absence to raid the northern territories. And House Lannister itself was no easy opponent.
Moreover, the two younger brothers of the late King Robert would also rise in rebellion, joining this great game of power.
Beyond the Wall in the far North, the Night King was sharpening his claws, ready to invade the continent at any time.
On another continent, the descendants of House Targaryen had once again obtained dragons, preparing to recreate their ancestors' glorious feat of riding dragons and slaughtering their enemies across the land.
"With the North's current strength, trying to sweep the entire continent is still far too difficult. I may be strong, but I don't have the kind of mobility that comes with riding a dragon. Replicating the Targaryens' methods would be rather hard."
After forming a rough understanding of the current situation, Robb quickly overturned all of House Stark's original strategies from the canon story and began devising an entirely new plan.
Stockpile grain extensively, proclaim kingship slowly.
Befriend distant powers, attack nearby ones, and steadily erode the continent.
The wisdom of the ancestors truly was something else.
With a long-term goal established, Robb turned his thoughts to the immediate problems ahead.
"Soon, a group of lords loyal to the North will arrive at Winterfell. In the original story, Robb did win over some of them, but there were still those with ulterior motives. I absolutely cannot allow that to happen again."
"The issue of supplies must also be prepared properly. Although it has been summer for years and Winterfell still has plenty of grain stored, war is war—it burns money. Without solid logistical support, my army won't last long at all."
These two issues were the most urgent. Although Robb did not plan to march all the way to King's Landing in one breath like before, now that things had reached this point, a war with House Lannister was unavoidable.
His sisters had to be rescued. Blood ties within a family could not be abandoned—especially in a medieval fantasy setting like this. Once your reputation was ruined, no one would be willing to follow you.
A provocation also had to be answered. If the head wolf was seen as weak, there would be no need for external enemies—voices of rebellion would arise from within.
As for his imprisoned father, Eddard… there was likely no saving him. Unless Daenerys's three dragons could somehow be force-grown and delivered immediately, there was no way Robb could rescue Ned before the people-loving Emperor Joffrey went mad.
"For now, this will have to do. Problems can only be solved one at a time."
His mind exhausted, Robb closed his eyes and rested for a while. After a long moment, he opened them again, flames from the hearth flickering within his pupils.
"From now on, I am Robb Stark. Let it begin—winter is coming, House Lannister."
(End of Chapter)